


Reoccurring Themes

by creepy_shetan



Category: Whitechapel (TV)
Genre: Community: comment_fic, Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-02-03 05:57:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1733591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creepy_shetan/pseuds/creepy_shetan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Chandler starts to leave work for the night, he finds Kent asleep at his desk. Again.</p><p>(Originally posted 2010/3/15 as a fill for a prompt.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reoccurring Themes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sandrine Shaw (Sandrine)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandrine/gifts).



Chandler was just locking his office and buttoning his coat when he turned around and saw that a desk lamp was still on in the outer office. Upon closer inspection, he saw Kent sleeping under its soft glow, head pillowed by his arms, which in turn were further cushioned by the case files and research stacked underneath. 

When the other DCs and Miles were leaving, Chandler had heard Kent say that he was nearly done with something and wanted to finish it up first -- that he would only be a few minutes behind. That had been nearly an hour ago.

Chandler supposed he should have known better and checked on Kent earlier; however, he had a habit (that he was trying to dull if not break) of becoming so engrossed in paperwork and such that he lost track of reality, usually in terms of time, but also in terms of events occurring around him. He only knew when the others had left because Miles had come by to tell him as much, allowing Chandler to then take the opportunity to snap out of his work mode and take a short break. He had been getting a refill of tea when he happened to hear the brief exchange with Kent.

He shouldn’t have simply assumed he was alone. The group seemed to have an unspoken understanding that the last one to leave would check on the boss and make sure he didn’t end up working at his desk all night. Chandler had noticed this routine over time and wasn’t sure if they knew that he knew yet. In any case, the “last person” was most often Miles, then Kent; the other DCs were in the middle of the hierarchy and often ready to leave right as the clock chimed the hour, but even they had dealt with sending their DI home a couple of times each.

Lost in thought and unsure what to do, Chandler simply watched Kent sleep. He didn’t want to wake him, but he didn’t want to leave him there, either.

The sight reminded him of the one and only previous time he’d caught the younger man passed out at his desk: the day the copy-cat Ripper’s body had been found. Chandler was certain Kent had not slept much since the killer’s last attempted murder, and -- although neither had anyone else during those few but painfully long days spent waiting and searching -- he knew the young DC had taken the experience especially hard because Chandler had seen everyone’s faces when he got the call and announced the news to the room. While the others sighed with relief and laughed about it being “about damn time,” Kent had quietly collapsed into his chair with his head in his hands. Chandler had taken only one step toward him when Kent ran his fingers through his hair as he lifted his face to reveal a smile. A wide, genuine smile meant for no one in particular that clearly stated one thing: _“It’s over.”_

Hours later, the young DC had fallen into a deep and peaceful sleep on top of his desk in much the same position. No one had had the heart to disturb him then (not even Miles, who had insisted on returning to at least do deskwork earlier than planned), and Chandler was finding it rather difficult to do it now. When Kent _had_ woken up that day, his face plainly showed grogginess, then realization, then embarrassment. He had asked why no one had bothered to wake him, and McCormack had shrugged and said, “We would have as soon as you started snoring.” Kent hadn’t said anything, but his embarrassment had faded into annoyance.

Back in the present, Chandler sighed softly. Watching a grown man sleep was not normal, and the fact that he was his subordinate did not help matters in the slightest. He was just thankful no one else was around to witness this. 

But he couldn’t let this become a pattern, and thus he slowly and gently shook Kent’s shoulder. At least this time, with it only being the two of them, neither had any reason to even mention it later. The last thing Chandler needed was everyone in the entire office to think they can sleep whenever and wherever they pleased.

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt: Whitechapel, Chandler/Kent, tired  
> The theme: Post-series  
> Originally posted [here](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/72832.html?thread=16846720#t16846720).  
> I only own the writing.


End file.
